


Lover's Quarrel

by graceandfire



Series: Brightness Burns [16]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceandfire/pseuds/graceandfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and McCoy are having a domestic argument, Mirror Universe style.</p><p>So this is a weird combination of almost schmoop, only sort of not, with angry sex, only sort of not, all wrapped up in the hostile, psychotic package of Mirror Universe-land.  Uhm, yeah, giving up on the descriptions now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover's Quarrel

He’s not even sure what sets them off. Kirk makes some smirking remark, designed to needle, and Leonard snarls something back, and it’s nothing they haven’t said a thousand times before. Hell, it’s their normal conversation mode. But suddenly they’re in each other’s faces, words getting ugly, hitting at each other’s weak points except Kirk doesn’t _have_ weak points.  Except apparently tonight he does, because his face is flushed and his blue eyes are practically nuclear and Leonard’s own head feels like it’s ready to explode and he’s waiting for Kirk to cut him off, to hit him or fuck him or both.  And then Kirk is reaching for his phaser and Leonard has time to think, _oh fuck_ , before Kirk is shoving the weapon into Leonard’s hands and he’s accepting it more out of surprise than anything else.  
  
He looks down at it and back up at Kirk and scowls. “What the fuck is this for?” He holds the phaser up and pointed to the side.  
  
Kirk just stares at him, eyes cold and uncharacteristically stormy. “It’s a _phaser_ , McCoy. You use it to _shoot_ people. Even you should be familiar with the concept.”  
  
Leonard snarls and his hand tightens on the weapon. “Oh, I’m familiar with the concept. I’m familiar from all the times I’ve had to patch up you and your bloodthirsty band of hooligans. Every time one of you idiots doesn’t manage to duck fast enough. Which is just grand, because regenerating charred flesh is one of my _very favorite pastimes_.”  
  
Kirk’s eyes go colder. “Well then, you should know that if you want to shoot someone you point it _at_ them.” He reaches out to yank Leonard’s hand towards his chest so that the phaser is pointing directly at Kirk’s heart.  
  
“What. The. _Fuck_ ,” Leonard growls, trying to yank his hand away, glancing down to make sure his fingers are nowhere near the trigger. “Have you lost your damn mind?”  
  
“Hey, you’re the one who says your life’s a nightmare you can never escape from. That I’m an evil bastard. So go ahead. It’s the only way you’ll ever be free of me.” Kirk leans in until his gold uniform is touching the end of the weapon. “You’re right, you know. You _can’t_ escape. And I _am_ an evil bastard. So if your life sucks so much, _go ahead and pull the trigger_.”  
  
“And then spend the rest of my very short life being tortured to death for treason?” Leonard scoffs. “Fuck you.”  
  
Calling Kirk’s bluff gets a reaction, but not the one Leonard’s expecting as Kirk lets go of his grip and stalks to the nearest comm unit.  
  
“Mr. Spock!”  
  
“ _Yes, captain?”_ The first officer sounds completely unruffled at hearing his captain’s temper filled voice at the ass end of gamma shift.  
  
“If Doctor McCoy kills me in the next ten minutes, you are _ordered_ not to take any disciplinary action against him, do you understand?”  
  
There is a very long pause. “ _Affirmative, captain. Do you require assistance of some kind? With…Doctor McCoy?”_  
  
"Negative,” Kirk responds curtly before disconnecting and turning to face Leonard again.  
  
He spreads his arms, making himself a bigger target. “Well?”  
  
Leonard stares at him, the seething burst of temper fading into his normal aggravation at being forced to deal with James Tiberius Kirk a.k.a. ‘The Most Contrary and Aggravating Individual the Universe Has Ever Been Dumb Enough to Produce.’ Finally, he snorts. “You’re an asshole.”  
  
“What?” Kirk’s eyes narrow. “You shoot me, you’re free and clear. You can stay here and be your usual martyr-like, miserable self. Or you can transfer to some other ship and be a miserable bastard there. Hell, you can even bend over for an admiral and try to buy your way out of the fleet; go home to heal the unwashed masses in Bumfuck, Georgia.”  
  
“There aren’t any unwashed masses in Bumfuck, Georgia,” Leonard responds flatly, keying the phaser off and then dropping it on the coffee table. “And you know I’m not gonna shoot you. I have this thing about trying to preserve life.”  
  
“Unlike me?”  
  
“Unlike you.”  
  
“How’s that working out for you?”  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
“I have you to do that for me.”  
  
Leonard drops onto the couch in disgust and refuses to look at the other man.  
  
When Kirk drops next to him, Leonard continues to ignore him although he figures he’s not going to get away with that for long. Kirk is pretty much un-ignorable.  
  
Sure enough, after about two seconds, Kirk’s hand reaches out and palms Leonard’s dick. And okay, shit, maybe he _is_ still in a temper, because he reaches out and bats Kirk’s hand away with a growl even though he _knows_ that’s not going to work.  
  
And his dick was kind of enjoying the attention.  
  
“Well, someone’s in a pissy mood.”  
  
“Why, because I don’t feel like bending over for a randy _asshole_?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Fuck. Off.”  
  
“I think I already addressed that suggestion.”  
  
Leonard snorts. The next thing he knows, he’s being tackled off the couch.  
  
“Mother fu…,” and then they’re wrestling, Leonard trying every trick he’s ever learned as they grapple furiously across the floor. Of course he ends up on his stomach, head yanked back in a ruthless lock.  
  
“Fuck, McCoy, how many years has it been and you _still_ suck at hand to hand.” Suddenly Leonard’s flipped on his back and Kirk is staring down at him cheerfully, earlier temper apparently forgotten in the fun of getting to manhandle him.  
  
“I’m a doctor, not a goddamn soldier,” Leonard grumbles. And he _has_ gotten better at hand to hand. Kirk’s demanded it. It’s just that Kirk will always be better, the fucking flexible, acrobatically inclined asshole.  
  
Kirk smirks and then moves, sliding down Leonard’s body, dragging Leonard’s pants down with him in one smooth motion. Leonard lies there and scowls and then yelps in surprise when Kirk’s mouth engulfs Leonard’s dick in one long swallow. Nerves explode with sensation as the hot, wet pressure of Kirk’s genius mouth starts suctioning.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” he moans, arching up, only to be held down by Kirk’s hard grip on his hips, pinning him to the floor.  
  
Kirk says something, made unintelligible by the fact that his mouth is full of Leonard’s _dick_ and the vibrations from the other man’s voice just reverberate into Leonard and up his spine, making him sweat and swear and futilely try to buck into that obscene mouth that's doing obscene things. Kirk’s forearm comes across Leonard’s belly to keep him pinned in place as his hand moves down to toy with Leonard’s sack, running too clever hands over and under, tracing the creases in his skin with light teasing touches. Leonard finds his own hands have moved to slide into Kirk’s hair, encouraging, begging, demanding, as he writhes under the ruthless attention. When Kirk starts sucking like a champion _while_ deep throating, Leonard yells and comes and the orgasm hits him so hard that his vision whites out and Kirk’s _still_ on him, milking him through it all until it’s so much, too much, pleasure balancing on the true edge of pain. When Kirk finally pulls off, lips red and puffy and wet, nostrils flaring, and gleaming eyes blown wide and staring at Leonard like he’s the only thing there is, it may possibly be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his entire fucked up life.  
  
Leonard’s eyes travel down as Kirk undoes his own pants, his dick set loose to jut up, red and glistening at the tip with pre-cum. Leonard knows that dick better than his own but somehow he can’t manage to draw his gaze away, fascinated, as Kirk starts fisting himself, hard and ruthless, his eyes never leaving Leonard’s. He looks like some fucking golden sex god, tempting a thousand virgins into corruption, into willingly sacrificing themselves, bodies and souls.  
  
The mind blowing orgasm that he just went through has probably rendered him incapable of getting it up for the next twenty years, but something in Leonard still sings and tightens in arousal at the sight, at Ji…Kirk’s eyes locked onto his, at the slaps of flesh on flesh and the tightening of Kirk’s face as he shudders and grunts and comes, shooting his load across Leonard’s chest, splattering him with the hot, sticky mess.  
  
With a last heaving grunt Kirk slides off and lands with none of his usual grace on the floor, lying shoulder to shoulder next to Leonard.  
  
Leonard's relearning basic motor skills and wondering how many brain cells he’s got left when he hears the snicker.  
  
Turning his head he looks at Kirk’s face. At his ruthless killer of a captain’s face that suddenly looks about twelve. A really perverted twelve.  
  
“What?”  
  
Kirk looks at him, bright blue eyes sated and momentarily mellow. “I have no fucking clue why I was so pissed off.”  
  
Leonard blinks and then looks up at the ceiling and blinks some more.  
  
He starts chuckling. Hell if he knows either.


End file.
